


a moment of weakness

by vaultfox



Series: Gift Fics [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultfox/pseuds/vaultfox
Summary: Just a small little thing I wrote for Del (deltastic.tumblr.com) where MacCready gets a lil’ worried bout his tough merc bro Sebastian after some raiders rough him up during the night.





	a moment of weakness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delina/gifts).



> Basically wrote this because Del is a total sweetheart and just .. thanks for bein’ my MacCready partner in crime. And also entertaining my late night one-liners over boys with happy trails. So glad we were brought together by the bean-pole child. Finally getting around to posting this on AO3 as she finally got a username! ^^

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” MacCready quipped, hands darting in and out of their pack. He mumbled under his breath _, something about too many empty bottles and not enough stimpacks … why does he hold onto this shi–_

Seb laughed low in reply.  “Heh, I showed him a good time though.”

MacCready’s hands finally caught hold of a lone stimpack, _half empty for god knows why._ He sighed, turning himself to face Sebastian as he leaned against the garage door, one hand holding a cloth near his heart and the other struggling to hold his weight up. _  
_

“When we joined up I didn’t think you’d be more of a liability than an asset,” he groaned, tapping the syringe lightly as he sat back on his heels, taking better stock of Sebastian’s condition.

He looked rough, but thankfully he’d seen him rougher. _Or maybe he shouldn’t have been so thankful to have seen him worse off …_ Still, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Seb’s hand, hovering lightly above the gash in his shoulder. It wasn’t a long cut, but it was deep. The green of his flannel quickly turning black … and if he blinked he missed it, _Sebastian was shaking.  
_

He tried to ignore it. He _never_ shook, never showed weakness — 

MacCready felt the chill rush run down his spine, hands clammy as he launched himself forward. He caught himself to kneel inbetween his sprawled thighs, one hand firm on his shoulder as the other slid the needle gently into his tight muscle. He didn’t let himself exhale till he heard the hiss of medicine entering his shoulder.

Seb laughed, _more like a happy grunt, really_ , and adjusted himself so that he was just about eye-level with the distraught mercenary.

“Missed me _that_ much, huh …”

“You _really_ ought to put more pressure on it than that, Seb …” he laughed, _or tried to_ —his gaze darting between Seb’s hollow eyes and his still trembling palm.

“I’m alright … I’ve been through worse.”

MacCready laughed for real that time, letting his forehead drop onto his uninjured shoulder for a moment.

“Oh really,” MacCready pulled back, hands deep in their pack once more. “Do tell.”

“I’m not much for conversation right now,” he rolled his shoulder carefully, eyes screwing in between pained grunts. MacCready scowled to himself, knowing each moan or groan was his doing. _He should have taken watch, he knew Sebastian was too tired._

“MacCready?” Sebastian called. “You with me??”

“I uh–, yeah …” MacCready choked, hands gripped tight over a bottle of whiskey and bandages.

“Then get over here,” he teased playfully, in the only tone he knew how.

“Sure just … let me clean that wound out, one stim’s not gonna cut it.”

Sebastian cocked a brow. “That whiskey better not be a part of that.“

“It’s all we have, Seb. Who knows what shi–crap was on that blade of his.”

“That’s nice of you to _care_ ,” he pat invitingly at the spot beside him. “Bring it here, whiskey’s only going in one place tonight.”

MacCready sighed, slamming his hat to the dirt as he turned to slip in beside his companion. He found himself relaxing just by being close to Seb _, and that had been happening more often than he’d like to admit._ Seb clicked his tongue to call the whiskey to his uninjured arm, taking a long drag on the bottle as he offered the bottle back with a nod.

“Guess you’re more fit to take the rest of watch tonight, huh …” Seb chuckled, the warmth of alcohol masking the ever present throb at his shoulder.

“Guess so.”

MacCready inched closer, sliding his hand into his, letting his head rest along the hard line of his shoulder. He relaxed, finally, and felt Seb’s shoulders do the same.

A few minutes passed, and the whiskey had done it’s job. MacCready inched his free hand towards his rifle, pulling it close alongside his left hip. His calloused thumb ran along the magazine, still heavy and full. Because he’d been asleep. 

The barrel nearly coupled under the pressure of his fist, MacCready only calming at the sight of Seb leaned back, sleeping peacefully despite his raider encounter.

It was like seeing someone get that perfectly preserved pie on the first try — something he couldn’t believe, couldn’t imagine. Sebastian … the guy who’d led him into more trouble than he could remember … looking almost angelic in the bluish glow of his pip boy, soft breaths puffing away at the greasy hair along his scalp.

And boy did _that_ sight freak him out.

MacCready squeezed Seb’s hand tight, releasing it as he pulled himself to stand. He stood above Seb for a moment, eyes still fixated on just how _different_ he looked. He looked … relaxed, he’d never seen his eyebrows so low on his forehead.

He leaned over him and pressed a kiss to the top of his forehead, still slick with sweat and grease. Something unintelligible came of out Seb’s mouth, and he was back to his quiet self.

He fought the urge to lean back into Seb, back into the comfort and security for whatever reason only he could provide.  He’d promised him as long as they’d stick together, they’d be alright. That it’d be a cold day in hell ‘til anything bad happened to him. That he made him happy, _truly happy._ He wanted to shout for all the Commonwealth to hear, to know that he’d do anything for Sebastian _,_ tear down any raider camp or sack all of the Brotherhood who stood in his way, _  
_

But he simply smiled to himself and turned away, headed for his usual perch at Red Rocket. Because MacCready was smart. Words meant nothing without action to back them up, especially in a place like the Commonwealth.

He wasn’t about to let his words fall short again.

**Author's Note:**

> vaultfox.tumblr.com


End file.
